


Christmas at the Bad Wolf Brew

by Caedmon



Series: Advent [18]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 14:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8893372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: Rose is planning to spend Christmas alone, working, when a bloke comes into her shop.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Doctor Who Secret Santa gift for professorcartoon on tumblr! One of the things she asked for was a coffee shop AU with Ten and Rose, so here you go!
> 
> Day eighteen of ['Advent'.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/596995)

Christmas used to be Rose’s favorite day of the year. The Tylers had always made a big deal out of the holidays: the decorating of the tree, the baking of cookies, the wrapping of gifts; all of the usual trappings of the holiday were special to them, and traditions were observed joyfully. 

Then her parents had died in a car accident four Christmases ago and all of Rose’s enjoyment of the holiday died along with them. She did her best to ignore the heartache that came along with the trees and carols and mistletoe, inescapable reminders of the season that appeared every December.

Rose was grateful that work kept her busy and occupied over the Christmas season. Christmas Eve was a busy day at the Bad Wolf Brew coffee house every year. Last minute shoppers would duck in out of the cold hustle and bustle on the pavement to warm up with a cup of something hot, but the crowds always thinned in the late afternoon as families started to gather in their homes. The number of customers coming in trickled as the day wore on until they all but stopped. 

Rose always stayed, though, sending her employees home to enjoy what she no longer had, and kept the shop open until their regularly scheduled closing hours. The shop would also be open regular hours the next day, Christmas Day. She had nowhere special to go and besides, if she went home she’d just sit around and hate the day, mourn her loss, and cry. 

No, it was much better to work. 

There were two hours left until the shop closed at eight and Rose was starting to rethink her plan to avoid spending the holiday at home alone. She was just as alone at work. It had been an even quieter evening than normal and there’d been no customers at all for the last ninety minutes. She was bored, but there was nothing left to do. Everything had been cleaned and polished until it gleamed, the books and magazines had been rearranged numerous times, and there was no bookkeeping to be done. With a sigh, Rose sat down behind the counter to doodle in her notebook. 

She was halfway through a sketch of a wolf baying at the moon - a drawing indicative of her mood - when the bell over the door jingled. She looked up from her art to greet the customer, but paused, words caught in her throat. 

The person coming in out of the cold was a man a bit older than Rose with wild hair and handsome features. He stomped his trainer-clad feet on the welcome mat as he came in to clear them of snow, then shook out his long brown coat. His dark scarf, untied from all the jostling, hung loosely around his neck, swaying a little from his motion. He glanced around the room, his eyes locking on the menu board, and he started over towards her as he pulled off his gloves. 

“Yes, hello,” he said when he reached her, still without looking but smiling anyway, his estuary accent light and pleasant. “I think I’ll have a large coffee. Black. With a shot of espresso.”

“That’s pretty high-octane, mister, especially for this time of night,” Rose teased. 

His eyes left the menu board and he looked down at her. Rose took a short, involuntary breath. They were a soft, caramel brown but there was a sharpness there, and Rose got the impression that this man missed very little. At the moment, he seemed to be sizing her up. Apparently he liked what he saw, because he smiled brightly. 

“I think I’ll be alright.” 

“Okay then, on your own head be it,” she grinned again, a little nonplussed this time. “Do you want a shot of flavor?”

“No, thank you. Just black.”

“Coming right up.”

Rose turned around to the carafes of coffee and gave three pushes, sending coffee splashing into the large cup in her hands. Once done, she took the cup over to the cappuccino machine and started to make the espresso. 

“Don’t see many people out at this time of night on Christmas Eve,” she remarked casually.

“Nowhere else to be.”

_You and me both._

“No family?” she asked before she could stop herself. 

“No. No family.”

Rose felt a sudden pity for the man as well as a kinship she couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it was that they were both alone at Christmas. 

“Well,” she said, pouring the espresso into the cup. “You’re welcome to hang out here until we close. I expect we won’t see anymore customers.”

He seemed to be considering her offer when she turned around. “You won’t be closing up to go home to your own family?”

“No. No family,” she echoed his words, then went on. “My parents died four years ago. There’s no one else left.”

“I’m so sorry,” he told her, accepting the cup. 

Rose shrugged. “It’s been four years. But it kind of sucked all of the fun out of the season, you know?”

The man nodded. “I’ve never had much family to speak of. The ones I had are gone, long ago.”

Without thought, she reached across the counter and put her hand over his. He looked down at her hand, then back up at her. He looked down at their hands again, and Rose suddenly realized she was touching a stranger and pulled her hand back. “Er, sorry about that,” she apologized, flushing profusely.

“No problem,” he said, an odd quality to his voice. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. It’s on the house.” His eyes narrowed at her, twinkling a bit, but she just smiled. “You came in and broke up my boredom. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, you know?”

“Yeah. It is.” He hesitated for a moment, lips quirked up, then offered: “My name’s John. John Noble.”

“John Noble,” she smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Rose Tyler.”

“Rose Tyler,” he repeated, and she’d never heard her name pronounced quite like that. She’d talked to countless people, of course, and quite a lot of them had said her name, but it had never sounded like _that_. It was as if he were savoring the sound of it. She reached up and grabbed the counter to steady herself - her knees felt suddenly and inexplicably wobbly. Blimey, he was handsome.

“This your work?” he asked, seemingly oblivious to her predicament and pointing to the notepad. 

“Hmm? Oh! Yes! I was just doodling.”

John reached across and turned the pad so that it was facing him. “Looks quite a bit better than just ‘doodling’.”

A flush heated her cheeks. “Well, it’s a hobby that I enjoy.”

“You’re quite good,” he told her, and she sensed that those were special words, that this man didn’t give compliments lightly. She glowed under the praise. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So,” he raised his hand and indicated the building around them, “this is your place?”

“Yep,” she confirmed, looking around proudly. “When my parents died there was an insurance settlement. I had no idea what to do with the money until my mate Shireen suggested I make it work for me, so to speak. So I opened a coffee shop almost three years ago now.”

John nodded appreciatively. “Seems as if you’ve done well for yourself.”

“Not bad,” she acknowledged. “Would you care to sit down? I could…” She ducked her head, feeling inexplicably shy. “I could make myself a cuppa and join you,” she blurted, and her eyes widened in horror when he didn’t answer right away. She began to backpedal. “I mean, you don’t have to… I’m sure you… It was just…”

“I’d love that, Rose Tyler,” he said sincerely, and a riot of butterflies took flight in her belly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She just smiled at him dumbly for another minute, a bit lost in the brown of his eyes, until he gave a pointed look at the stacks of cups by the register. “Having a cuppa might help.”

Rose snapped out of her daze at once, blushing again. “Right. Yes! Coffee…” Her mind spun, trying to make sense of what she was supposed to be doing. Coffee. Right.

“I’ll just…” He lifted his coffee and used it to point in the general direction of the couch. “And you can join me whenever.”

“Of course, yes, I’ll be there in two shakes.”

 _Two shakes?!_ she chided herself. _Lame, Tyler._

He just gave her another lopsided grin and started towards the couch. Rose turned her back on him, clenching her fists and squeezing her eyes shut tight. 

What on _Earth_ was wrong with her? She’d waited on countless customers in the past two years, and quite a lot of them had been good-looking blokes. She’d never flirted with any of them and always figured it was grief that stayed her hand. Shareen had always teased her that her preferred type was ‘pretty boy’, and more than her share of that type of bloke had tried to pull her in the last couple of years since she opened the Bad Wolf. And still she hadn’t flirted - seriously flirted - since before the accident that took her parents. 

Now here was this terribly handsome bloke...and she was flirting with him! Actually flirting! She’d not had any interest in a bloke in years - literally years - but here she was, trying to pull him! He could be a criminal, an evil man of some sort. 

But somehow she knew that he wasn’t. She sensed absolutely no danger from this man of any kind, and he’d said that he had no family. There was no ring, nothing to indicate he had a wife or anything that put him off limits.

 _He’s as lonely as you are, Rose,_ came a little voice inside her mind. _He said he had no family. He’s just lonely - and you are, too. There’s nothing wrong with passing the time with a bloke who’s miserable on Christmas Eve, just like you._

“Just passing the time,” Rose muttered to herself, stepping forward to make a cuppa. “Right.”

Then why was she so nervous?

Once her coffee was made she lifted the section of the counter that separated the back from the lounge and walked over to where John sat with his coffee in one hand and newspaper in the other. She hesitated. He seemed comfortable and at ease - the exact opposite of her - and wasn’t that the purpose of her little shop? For people to come in and relax?

Before she could second guess herself more he lowered the paper to the side and looked up at her with a bright, expectant smile. She felt her face stretch into an answering grin.

“I, um, I brought over some muffins. Thought you may want one.”

He sat up a little, looking at the plate in her hand with interest. “Is there banana nut?”

Rose laughed a little. “There is. It’s the one on the right.”

He plucked the muffin off the plate with two long fingers and sat back, giving her a smile. “Ta.”

“You’re welcome.” Rose sat the plate down and made herself comfortable on the couch, in the corner opposite him. Looking down into the brown depths of the cup in her hands, she wondered what to say. Ideas for conversation flitted in and out of her mind, none of them seeming quite good enough. 

He interrupted her thoughts. “Are you from London?”

Rose nodded, swallowing her sip of coffee. “Born and raised,” she smiled. “You?”

“No, not from London,” he grinned, breaking off a bit of the muffin and eating it. 

“Sure sound like it.” Her tongue came to the corner of her mouth, and his eyes darted down to it. She flushed scarlet and, in an attempt to cover herself, she asked, “Have you been in London very long?”

“I used travel a lot, but London has been my home base for a fair few years,” he answered easily. “Most likely longer than you’ve been alive.” 

Rose laughed. “You don’t look nearly old enough for that.”

He grinned. “I’m not as young as I look.”

“No?”

“Oh, I’m much older. Been around a bit.”

She wasn’t sure why, but that enthralled her, even as his innuendo made her giggle. “Is that so?”

“Look at me!” he said with a self-deprecating grin. “I’m practically ancient!” Rose simply giggled and his face softened into a little smile. 

“I’m not quite as young as I look, either.”

“Oh?”

“I’m twenty-six.”

“You’re right.” His eyes twinkled. “You’re not quite as young as you look.”

She feigned outrage through a big, wide smile, and rocked forward to shove at his arm a bit. John merely grinned. “Why aren’t you out celebrating?”

“Told you,” she said, casting her eyes down at her cup. “My parents died.”

“Well, mine died too, but that’s no reason not to celebrate the happiest day of the year.”

“What about you?” she lobbed back at him. “You’re in here alone on Christmas Eve. it's way past time for the shops to close. You should be celebrating, too.”

“Good point. But I told you: no family.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I just want to make sure I’m not keeping you from anything too important.”

Rose shook her head. “No. Nothing more important than here and now.” 

Both of them flushed and ducked their heads at that. 

He recovered first. “So, Rose Tyler, is this your dream?”

“The Bad Wolf?” He nodded an affirmative. “I like it. I actually love it when you get down to it, more than I thought I would. It’s like my parents live on through this business I run. Yeah?” He nodded again. “But if you’re asking if this is a dream come true, the answer would have to be no. I always wanted to be an adventurer, you know? Like Indiana Jones in pink.”

John laughed at that. “Indiana Jones in pink! That’s clever!”

“Well,” she grinned, “There’s no reason to wear khaki all the time. I’d just wear what made me look and feel cute and go from there.”

“I imagine most things make you look cute, Rose. It’d be impossible for them not to.”

Rose’s cheeks flamed and she looked away, trying to fight a pleased smile. He seemed flustered by his own bravado. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Honestly.”

“It’s alright. It’s been a long time since a bloke tried to pull me on Christmas.”

“I wasn’t trying to pull you. Welll…” he tugged his ear a bit, “maybe I was. A little. It just...it’s the truth, and it just slipped out.”

“Just slipped out, huh?” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Tell me another one,” she requested.

John paused and gave her a funny look. “Another what?”

She took a sip of her coffee. “Another truth.”

“About you?” She nodded and he swallowed hard. “Well, I hardly know you, it might be difficult to - ”

“Sorry,” she cut him off. “I got ahead of myself. I shouldn’t -”

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted. “The most beautiful woman I’ve seen in...oh, I couldn’t even tell you how long. And you’ve managed to make me not hate this day.”

Rose just blinked at him, stunned. “How’d I do that?”

“No idea,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “You just...did. I feel happy now, like there’s something pleasurable in life after all, whereas before I came in here, I was dreading going back to my flat and heating up a frozen meal.” He gave her another grin. “You’re much better than a frozen meal.”

She laughed. “Is that another truth, then?”

He laughed, too. “Yup! It is! You are _definitely_ much better than a frozen meal.”

The two of them looked down at nothing, letting their bright smiles fade into something a bit more content. After a few moments, John spoke.

“Rose?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

She considered him for a moment and tried to ignore the wild tattoo her heart was beating against her chest. “Fate?”

“Yes. Like, certain things that are just meant to happen.” 

“I - I think I do.” She nodded a little, biting her lip, trying to hide her smile. 

“I think me coming in here tonight might have been fate.”

The smile broke through again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We were both alone on what’s supposed to be the happiest holiday of the year. We both needed someone, whether we would admit it or not. I mean, I was walking along a dark, empty street, feeling like it was an excellent metaphor for my life, and then there was this one bright spot on the corner. I go inside and it’s warm and comfortable and there’s someone there who seems to need company as much as I do. That feels like fate to me.”

“Me too,” Rose whispered. 

The two of them gazed at each other for a few minutes, their coffees forgotten, brown eyes meeting brown eyes, getting to know each other silently. Building trust. Growing a foundation without words. 

“What time do you close?” John asked. 

She shrugged. “I can close anytime, I suppose.”

“Why don’t we go for a walk? It’s cold outside, but maybe we can find somewhere to spend Christmas Eve together.”

Her tongue came out between her teeth again. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go.”

~*~O~*~

John stood around patiently while she locked up the shop , and when she joined him on the pavement he took her hand and said ‘run’. 

And they did run, spending the rest of the evening at a Thai restaurant that just happened to be open. They made plans for John to come to Rose’s flat the next day after the shop closed and when he got there, she’d made a little Christmas dinner for the pair of them. 

He kissed her that night, sitting on her couch watching “It’s a Wonderful Life,” and she was sure she’d never been happier on Christmas. 

All year, John and Rose ran. They traveled, Rose leaving the shop in the capable hands of her second-in-command while they would go on safaris or to visit ancient ruins, John explaining the history of the site to her in great detail or showing her the proper way to focus binoculars. Rose always wore her blonde hair back from her face with a pink scarf. He took to calling her his ‘pink-and-yellow girl’. 

On the next Christmas Eve, the shop closed at 3pm and when Rose left, she put up a sign that said they’d reopen on Boxing Day.


End file.
